


clearer than the water

by Solanaceae



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 10:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solanaceae/pseuds/Solanaceae
Summary: Rose meets a strange woman near Bywater Pool.





	clearer than the water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ilthit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/gifts).

Summer draped itself over the Shire, golden and lazy, and a soft haze of heat lay over Bywater. In the long afternoons, Rose swam with her brothers and the Gamgee children in Bywater Pool, splashing each other or floating on their backs to watch the summer birds make their nests in the trees until the sun set and it was time to walk home, dripping river-water and laughing. 

Bywater Pool was always pleasantly cool. The Water ran through Hobbiton and fed into the Pool, where it was joined by a stream from the north that wandered through Northfarthing from the Bindbole Wood. Rose had heard this second stream called many names, but her favorite was _Norbourn_, for the way it made her tongue curl around the last syllable. The water near where that stream entered the Pool was colder than the rest, and never seemed to warm entirely to the sun. Rose had heard stories of snow falling every winter in the far reaches of Northfarthing, and wondered if this was that snow, melted and flowing south. 

Around noon, on a day when her brothers were helping their father run an errand in Overhill, Rose went down to Bywater Pool alone, carrying her lunch in a cloth bundle. She lay on a rock and dangled her feet in the water for some time, watching the clouds pass overhead. Insects hummed in the long grass, and more than once she had to swat one away. 

A frog hopped out of the water and onto the rock beside her, throat pulsing rhythmically as it looked up at her. She smiled at it. “I don’t suppose Sam is coming down here today, what do you think?” 

It didn’t respond, not that she had ben expecting it to.

“I think,” she said, “I will walk down the river.” She sat up, and the movement sent the frog leaping away. Sticking to the shallows, she waded around the edge of the pond to where the river left the Pool, then downstream, lunch pack balanced on her head. East of the Pool, the Hobbiton Road curved away from the Water, and the trees grew thicker on either side of the river. The water ran shadow-dappled but clear, small silver fish occasionally darting from sunspot to sunspot cast between the leaves. Though the river ran deeper in the center, the current was gentle, and Rose had little trouble keeping her footing on the pebbled bottom. 

She was just wondering if she should stop and eat her lunch when a splash came from behind her. She turned, scanning the river behind her—if the noise had been a fish, it was a large one, by the sound of it. There was nothing visible but a patch of disturbed water, as if something had just ducked below the surface.

Curious, Rose stepped towards it, deeper into the river. There was something under the surface, pale and wavering through the running water.

“Hello?” she asked.

A woman rose gracefully from the water, wearing a light green dress tied with a white sash. She was tall, so tall that the water that came up to Rose’s waist barely reached halfway up her thighs. She had golden hair, now darkened and wet from the river, and strange eyes that made Rose think of the palest part of the morning sky, or new spring leaves, or the smooth gray stones from the bottom of the stream after they had dried in the sun. 

When she spoke, her voice was soft and musical. “Tell me, child, what do you call this river?”

Rose frowned. “It’s called the Water, of course. And I’m hardly a child, or I won’t be soon. I’m almost thirty.” 

"The Water,” the woman mused. “A clear name for a clear river.” She swept a hand over the river’s surface, the tips of her fingers trailing in the water before she lifted them, seeming to examine the drops that ran down her hand to drip from her wrist.

Rose watched this, curiosity nibbling at her patience until she blurted out, “Who are you? Where are you from?”

The woman smiled at her, the most elegant and assured smile Rose had ever seen. “I am Goldberry, the River-daughter. And you are?”

“Oh,” Rose said, face going warm. She had entirely forgotten her manners. “I’m Rose Cotton, I live nearby, in Bywater.”

“Bywater,” Goldberry said, sounding thoughtful. “Because it is beside the water? I like that. Entirely uncomplicated.”

Rose’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t tell if she was being made fun of right now. “Well, us hobbits don’t really go for _complicated_,” she replied, perhaps a little more sharply than was entirely polite. But Goldberry just laughed, a sound like clear rainfall on forest leaves.

“I am glad to meet you, Rose Cotton.”

“Would you like lunch?” Rose waded over to the bank, set her bundle down on damp grass, and started untying the green-checkered cloth, spreading her lunch out. “I have brown bread, strawberry preserves, and cheese. Enough for us both, unless you’re feeling particularly hungry.” She eyed Goldberry’s slender body, which was quite visible through the wet cloth clinging to her form. “Do River-daughters get hungry?”

Instead of answering, Goldberry picked up a morsel of cheese and placed it in her mouth, movement delicate. 

Rose nodded, satisfied, then began spreading the sticky red jam on her own slice of bread. They ate side-by-side, the only noise the insect-song from the long grass and the rippling noise of the river. 

“I must return to my home,” Goldberry said eventually. “But I trust we will meet again.”

Before Rose could respond, Goldberry slipped into the water, sleek as a fish, and when Rose blinked, there was only the scattered sunlight on the river’s surface.

***

Summer drew to a close, and one warm night she dreamed she was in her home, but it home was empty. For some reason, this did not alarm her. She wandered through the darkened hallways, towards a silver-white light that glowed from beneath the kitchen door. 

She opened the door to find Goldberry sitting cross-legged on the floor, a water lily in her cupped hands, her entire body giving off a soft glow, like a moon-tinted firefly. The air smelled like the soil after rain, like water and storms. 

“Hello,” Rose said. When she stepped in, she half-expected the floor to have become damp earth, but it was the same wood as it always was, creaking in the same place it always did.

Goldberry smiled. “Hello.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“Visiting.” Goldberry tilted her head to the side. “Your dreams are so quiet. And they could use more flowers.” She gestured with one slender hand, and a sudden rush of lilies cascaded through the windows, orange and white and pale pink petals carpeting the floor. Rose let out an undignified yelp as the flood of blooms reached her feet, rustling over her bare skin. 

“Excuse me,” she said loudly.

“Yes, Rose?”

“This is _my_ dream.” She wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, or why she was being so rude, but her mouth kept moving as though it had a mind of its own. “Stop making such a mess.” 

Goldberry threw back her head and laughed, the sound like silver bells ringing. The flowers misted away, leaving behind only a faint fragrance.

“That’s better,” Rose said. “Would you like some tea, maybe some biscuits?” The fact that this was a dream only occurred to her after she had spoken. Well, she supposed she could dream up some tea if she really had to.

Luckily, Goldberry shook her head. “I did not come for a meal.”

“Why _did_ you come, then?”

Goldberry leaned forward, pale eyes fixed on hers, and Rose had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being examined. “Do you know what your future holds?”

“Of course not,” Rose replied. “How could anyone know what’s going to happen? That’s impossible.”

“But you have hopes. Dreams, perhaps.” The corners of Goldberry’s mouth curved upwards. “Loves, even.”

Rose thought of Sam’s brown skin and honest smile. “I expect I will be married someday,” she offered cautiously.

“You will. There is darkness in the future—yours, and the world’s. But beyond that, there is joy.” Her expression turned solemn. “I came because you were kind to me, that day by the river, and I repay kindness in turn. Even I do not know for certain what will come to pass, but I offer you what certainty I have.”

Rose hesitated, then nodded. “Thank you.”

Goldberry rose from the floor and kissed Rose on the forehead. Her lips were cool, and Rose felt her skin tingle where they touched her. 

“Goodbye for now, Rose.”

The dream splintered into a thousand sparks. The last thing Rose saw was those strange, pale eyes, a hue that she still couldn’t name, but that now made her think of moonlight on the surface of a river.

She woke in her own bed, a ghost of sensation lingering on her forehead where Goldberry had kissed her.


End file.
